Two Thousand Caps
by heathernefarious
Summary: F!LWxCharon, series of oneshots coming your way. Fluffiness, rejection and lemon-lime all over the place.
1. She Jingles

**Note:** I don't own Fallout or any of it's wonderful characters.

So, I see you're interested in my oneshots. Charon may seem a little _fluffy _in this chapter but he'll be a real badass in future shots.

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The sound of caps rubbing against each other- clinks and jingles against the table- the sound of a soft laugh coming from her mouth- the sound of that paper he was bound to uncrumpled and placed in her silky smoothskin hands; Charon belonged to her then. But even before that, she had him at "hello."

Of course, he told her to talk to Ahzrukhal when she approached him and greeted him ever so politely. It seemed almost like she came there to meet him, because unlike others she didn't notice the bar. She didn't take a seat... no, she had her eyes locked on him the moment the door cracked open. She made a beeline around the table and stood in front of him, confident and whimsical. The energy she emitted was welcoming and powerful, like it was made for him. She was made for him. The energy was like radiation- lethal and poison for some, but embracing and soothing for somebody like him. Charon rejected her as he was accustomed to, and she turned away. Jingled away.

She led him out of Underworld and out into the fresh air. Willow watched sadly as her friend was whisked away by the smoothskin girl, and Charon sent a nod her way as he departed with his new employer. Willow returned the gesture and she gazed upon the duo as they disappeared in the fog.

She laughed as they kill petty raiders and abominations. She was always bouncy and giggly as they wandered, exploring every nook and cranny in the capital wasteland. But above all, she jingles. The girl was funny and she had caps strung out around her waist which clacked against her leather armour as her hips swayed with each step she took. Charon had lots of things to say about her and the entertaining things she did, but the girl wasn't very talkative. Above all, she preferred laughter as their main mode of communication. Charon didn't like his laugh as much as he did before ghoulification, so most of the time she laughed all by herself. The sound was acoustic and very musical against the brushing, light wind of the capital wasteland.

She whimpers in her sleep as the night slowly passes by. She calls out for her father quietly on a nightly basis in her dreams, ever since he died she could never sleep peacefully. Her face was usually hidden behind dirty goggles and it is only when she goes to bed her face is visible. Her face is tanned and has scattered freckles from constant exposure to the sun. She has white blonde hair that adds a strange contrast to her appearance, but Charon thinks she's nice to look at. Though she looks troubled in her sleep, the girl is skilled at keeping her emotions at bay in her waking hours. Charon sometimes considers laying beside her and sleeping with her, because perhaps he could fight away what plagues her in her dreams like he would in real life. Instead, he restlessly waits for dawn to light the world and bring her back to her happy ways. When she awakens, she jingles like always.

She pulls away shyly as her childhood friend Butch wraps his arms around her. Charon is told to sit on the other side of the Rivet City bar as the two croon and flirt with each other. He doesn't know what he expected from her, but it was always obvious that a young, beautiful soul like hers could never be tied down by a cold, worn down and hapless thing such as himself. Charon watches her from a distance, suppressing envy as she jingles, throwing her caps away for more booze. The two leave the bar, and Charon followed at a distance to ensure her safety. They went into a room and close the door while Charon stood outside, listening to them intently. The routine is set, but tonight happens to be different than usual.

"No, Butch. I'm not ready." She said with strain.

"Deb... _Come_ on!" He pleas.

"I just want to hold you tonight." Charon could hear the light hearted smile in her voice.

"I just want to fuck you tonight." Charon could hear the ill intention in his.

"I'm leaving." She's suddenly angry.

"No you're not." He is too.

She's struggling. She's telling him to stop but Butch isn't listening. Charon hurriedly attempted to open the door, but it was locked. He pried at it, slammed against the thing but to no avail. By then she was screaming his name for help, but he was helpless. If he was to pick the door it would be too late, but he knew Rivet City was armed to the teeth. The guards came soon enough and unlocked the door and rushed into the room, Charon burst in before them and instinctively had his arms wrapped around her as the guards dealt with Butch. His employer was okay, save for a few bruises, and that made him content and relieved.

He carried her to the room she owned without any instruction and put her on the bed. She smiled and thanked him, even rewarded him for something the guards did. Maybe it was because he was there for her right away, maybe because she was too drunk to notice. His reward was permission to address her by her name; Deborah.

"As my employer, I'll do as you command."

Charon said as she sent him back to Underworld. His eyelids flickered at her in disappointment, and she tried her best to remain stalwart as he turned to walk alway. As his silhouette was no longer visible on the horizon, Deborah stifled back a tear or two as she turned away. She didn't need him to watch her die as she activated project purity. The Lone Wanderer was now alone once again and she entered the Jefferson Memorial to complete her duty and bring life back to the wasteland. She went into the control room and adhered to Doctor Li's commands. She pushed the buttons on the panel and let the radiation seep through her skin and bones, rendering her unconscious far before the radiation could kill her.

Charon was the only person on her mind as she was dying. Not her father, not her mother, not her best friend Amata or her on and off lover Butch, but the man who followed her and said her name so sweetly as they grew close. Because she was smart and pessimistic, she knew nothing good could come from entering the project purity control room with her, so never allowed Charon into that room with her, so he would wait for her return blindly because he wouldn't know how dangerous the task really was. Her companion would have no idea she was dead until the word spread of her selfless endeavour. Then, he would be alone; perhaps even free. The blast hit her, the water cleared, the wasteland was saved.

She jingles softly as she was carried away.

"_Deborah..._" Said a hoarse voice.

"_Deborah..._" She felt a rough set of fingers brushing against hers.

"_Deborah..._" Somebody was stroking her hair.

"Deborah." Her eyes met with his as she came to. Her body was achy and stiff, Deborah whined and grimaced as she peeled herself off the metal table. Charon guided her up gently, and Deborah was soon enough standing on her own two feet.

"You were gone for two weeks." Charon stepped back from her. Deborah leaned against the table and rubbed her head. "The brotherhood saved you."

"Why are you here?" She sounded apprehensive. Charon avoided her gaze.

"You were calling for me when you were out cold, so the brotherhood found me and took me here." He felt stiff, she was suddenly awake and Charon didn't know what to make of the situation. A small pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. Her face pressed against his chest, and Charon raised his hand to her head and held her close to him with his fingers intwined in her hair.

"When I was dying, I could only think about you." Deborah was crying. He could hear it in her voice. It amazed him that she would shed tears over him of all people in the wastes. She didn't even cry when her father died.

"I was by your side the entire time." He pulled away with his hand still holding her head. He thumbed away at any tears within his reach and took another long stroke of her hair before he released her. Deborah, on the other hand, still had her hands on his body. Charon took them and cupped them between his much larger hands. She looked for his eyes, desperate for contact but Charon continued staring into nothingness as he went along with his sweet gestures.

"It's good that you're okay." He left the room and closed the door behind him. Deborah took her cue and got dressed, and the young woman and her ghoul companion stole away into the night without the brotherhood blinking an eye at their escape. Knowing them, Deborah knew Elder Lyons only saved her because he had a task for her upon her awakening.

She never went to see Butch, not even to go buy supplies from Rivet City. For all the tunnel snake knew, Deborah was dead. She no longer wore her goggles, either. She even got a new hairdo. Instead of the natural platinum blonde Charon came to know and enjoy, Deborah dyed her hair black and chopped off her long locks to a jaw-line length crop cut. It made him uneasy watching Wadsworth wildly whack away at her head, but in the end she looked as pretty as ever. After coming out of her room after a long wait, the young woman even put on a fancy dress.

"What do you think?" She did a little twirl.

Charon couldn't give her his honest opinion, so he went with the usual. "Whatever you think is best."

She pouted. "Tell me what you really think. None of that robotic contract mumbo jumbo."

"You look..." Charon traced her figure with his eyes. Not only did her new hair style do her some good, but her outfit wasn't too shabby either. "_...nice._"

"Nice?" She poofed up her hair and made a silly face. "I was expecting more than nice. Say something else."

Charon flinched at her sudden feistiness. It reminded him of how she talked to Butch sometimes. He sat in the chair in the corner of the living room and rested his head in his hand. "Your request isn't a part of my contract." He stated with a very slight hint of mirth.

Deborah gasped. "My, oh, my."

She playfully danced towards him, slowly and suggestively. Charon was quickly short of breath when she got close. He eyeballed her questionably and looked away from her the best he could. Deborah straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around the chair, locking him into place. With her chin resting on his shoulder, the ghoul could smell the alcohol on her breath.

That's why she took so long.

Now, he could easily force her off of him- but Charon felt more compelled to use his words. "Get off of me, Deborah." He sounded more amused than he wanted to.

"But aren't you having fun?" She gushed as she began rocking back and forth.

"Debor-_ahh..!_" Charon jerked away from her as she began planting kisses on his neck. She reached his broad jawline and started kissing his cheeks, then made her way to his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and got out of the chair, bringing her with him. He dropped her back into the same spot he was sitting in and Charon took a step back.

"What the fuck?" Charon threw his arms open as he exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

Deborah squirmed in her spot and seductively leaned forward to show off her bits. Charon peeled his eyes off of her and she giggled. "I know you like me, Charon, and I like you."

She paused and got up off the chair. "I like you a lot."

Charon stood his ground and watched as she swayed towards him. She pushed against him and leaned on him for support. "Do you?"

"I don't just like you." He answered hushly. He grabbed her shoulders and put her upright, along with fixing the straps on her dress that became loose. She caressed his hands lightly with the tips of her fingers and before Charon could withdraw, Deborah was standing on her tippy toes, kissing what was left of his lips, and the ghoul found himself returning the kisses.

He kept his hands to himself, humming lowly as he enjoyed the soft texture of her small, puckered lips. She was gracefully dancing her fingers down his armour and slipping them under his many straps. Something felt wrong, and it was too good to be true.

"Stop, stop Deborah." Charon pushed her away and backed up, the lone wanderer stared up at him confused.

"You're drunk. I don't want you doing anything you might regret." Charon stood by the door to prevent her from angrily storming out. She nodded and crossed her arms.

"I understand." A hurt simper crossed her face and it sent a deep pain through him. Charon watched as she walked up the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her. He sat on the chair in the corner of the living room, half regretting his decision.

She stood at the makeshift firing range the two constructed a few months ago underneath Arefu. Enclave helmets, Nuka Cola bottles and teddy bears lined the target area. Deborah always laughed when Charon managed to be so accurate with his shotgun, and it made him happy.

The bridge made the shots and her jovial laughter echo, and her short black hair bounced in unison with her jingles. It wasn't always killing things with her, and Charon enjoyed that his employer liked to lay back and have fun.

"Deborah, why do you wear those caps around your waist?" Charon finally gathered the courage to ask.

"Ha, I just like the sound." She twiddled her thumbs, and it wasn't hard to see his question made her self conscious.

"Don't get shy about it. I like it, it reminds me of this song." He rested his combat shotgun over his shoulder. Deborah's eyes lightened up at the mention of music.

"Where did you hear it? GNR doesn't have a big selection and there's nothing about stringed bottle caps."

"I heard it in Vegas a while ago." Charon wore a look of reminiscence.

"Sing it to me." Deborah cheekily demanded.

Charon didn't know what to expect from her, but he adhered to her request. He cleared his throat and hummed to get to the right key with his raspy voice.

_"I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle as I go right merrily along"_

Charon began to move closer to Deborah, who was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle Charon was putting on for her.

_"Oh, Lillie Belle though I may have done some foolin' this is why I never fell"_

He stood in front of her, and Deborah was swaying her hips to give him musical relief with the tapping and jingling of her caps.

_"Cause I've got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle..."_

He tugged on the caps and Deborah looked up at him. She smiled politely as he leaned in and kissed her, and his employer returned the gesture.

"Deborah." Charon stroked her hair, and Deborah ran her fingers across his ragged skin.

"Charon, do you want to make love?"

He looked into her eyes and gave her another light kiss.

"Your wish is my command." He replied tenderly.


	2. The Sweater and The Mirror

"Look, Charon!" Deborah called as she finished rifling through a pile of rubble that she deemed 'interesting.'

He turned to look, crossing his arms after a long, irritating and frankly, boring period of time. She had been digging around all day, sometimes if she was lucky Deborah would find a piece of scrap metal to bring back to Megaton or an empty shell to refill for later use. Other than that, they were sitting ducks in the Capital ruins waiting to be shot at by the local muties.

"What is it, Deb?" He asked.

"I found a window. There's a building buried underneath this stuff." She continued throwing refuse and debris out of her way, determined to get to whatever was hidden beneath the rubble. Charon listened to her caps jingle as pebbles tapped against them when she threw them aside by handfuls.

"Help me." She ordered.

Charon started pulling the bigger pieces of rubble so she would have more room to thrash around and unveil the rest of the preserved window. He wasn't very interested in climbing into a mystery building that would obviously be full of radroaches and bloatflies. If his contract didn't lock him into such menial tasks such as playing in the rubble, he listened to her because she looked happy, she looked excited that they were excavating a seemingly untouched building.

That's what mattered to him.

Once the opening became large enough to expose a large enough portion of the window, Charon smashed the old glass with the butt of his shotgun and knocked away any sharp edges before he let her crawl in. He turned around and cradled his combat shotgun against his chest when an annoyed voice called out for him.

"Aren't you coming in?" She muttered.

"What if we get cornered?"

"What if there's somebody in here waiting to hurt me?" She retorted.

He never considered that.

Charon followed her inside, bemused by how comfortable she had gotten with him. Deborah was the first employer of his that he had gotten intimate with, the kid from the vault was changed by the wasteland in only subtle ways that didn't harm her innocence and accepting outlook on life. She was too sweet to hurt, too gentle to be real.

Deborah turned on her Pipboy light, revealing the immaculately preserved room the two stepped in. The paint on the walls remained unpeeled and only dusty, while the clean carpets were intact and furniture seemed untouched. Charon had never been in such a place before, never so... _pristine._

She led him through the rooms, twirling and letting her caps tap against her hips, the sound of jingles and jangles echoing through the halls. This place must have been an apartment building, because once they reached the stairwell there were three floors below them that were waiting to be explored. When the bombs fell the building must have collapsed into the ground, then was buried by rubble from the taller buildings, resulting in an untouched and immaculately preserved time capsule.

The room he remembered most about that building was strangely decorated. Colourful furniture, wallpaper and abstract paintings sent the two into a seemingly different world in which they did not belong. Deborah went to a twisted-multicolour end table and blew the dust off of it, setting the bright, flamboyant colours free in a poof of dirt. The Lone Wanderer began wiping the rest of the dust away as Charon watched her float around the room. She hadn't been this happy since her father died.

The ghoul closed the door behind them and took a seat on the most comfortable couch he ever sat on, resting his head as she explored without him. When she went into the bedroom, he could hear her laughing with jovial grace and could see the silhouettes prewar clothes flying through the air in the shadows.

He closed his milky blue eyes and exhaled deeply, cradling the combat shotgun he used so skillfully against his chest. A while later, she called out his name.

"Charon! Come here."

He took his time pushing himself off of the couch and took long, controlled strides into the room, where she stood wearing a big light blue sweater with stripes of various colours and sizes. Charon's broken lips folded into a smirk when she twirled in a circle, awaiting his opinion on her new piece of clothing.

"You look nice." He said.

"Charon, you know what I think of that word."

He rolled his eyes, she let out a huff of a laugh.

"_Darling_, then. You look darling." Said Charon.

He felt the fabric, furrowing his brow when he felt the strange thick-prickly-soft texture.

"What is it?" He turned her around and reached in the collar for the tag, and in worn out letters he made out the word wool.

"It's wool, whatever that is," Deborah paused, "I didn't call you in here to look at my sweater."

She directed her attention to a strange looking dresser in front of her- with a sheet hung over an extension of the piece of furniture. Before he could figure out what it was, she pulled the sheet off with a wicked grin, making Charon feel a little uneasy with what was under the sheet. He flicked his eyelids when the sheet was pulled off, stunned by what was before them.

Their reflections stared back at them, she smiled at her mirror duplicate while Charon stared, mouth slightly agape at the sight of his face. He turned away, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself.

The sight of his flaky skin, exposed muscle and hair that hung loosely onto his head was too much. His beaten up lips and the missing extremities on his face was a cruel reminder of what he was. The last time he saw his reflection was right before his ghoulification started, when he still had his light freckled skin, red hair and strong, handsome features. The only thing his ghoulification didn't steal were his deep, summer sky blue eyes.

He wasn't some prewar ghoul, so this mirror was an almost alien experience. An experience that he could have done without.

Deborah took him by the hand and led him to the neighbouring room, pulling him away from the mirror after realizing his reaction to his reflection. She led him to the couch that was so perfectly intact and laid him down, resting her body atop of his before placing the combat shotgun he used on the plush, carpeted floor. He avoided her gaze, eyes looming where the mirror stood behind the wall of the other room.

"Charon?" She cooed into his neck.

After seeing himself, he relapsed back into the thoughts, the bewilderment about how such a beautiful young thing could have anything to do with him romantically.

He shot his gaze back towards her, narrowing his eyes.

"_Get off me_."

"Charon." She said sternly. The jingling girl swept her fingers across his broken features, his rough patches of skin and bare bone. He grabbed her wrist, staring into her eyes down the arches of his face. She tenderly looked into his, and he could feel the grin she was making against his skin.

"I think you're very handsome. Kind, strong. The best guy I know."

Charon sighed with a raspy breath. He wrapped his arms around her and sat up, unsure how to go about with his next words. Their faces were level with each other, eyes meeting, searching the other's. Before he could say anything, Deborah must've noticed his expression soften because she had her lips pressed against his, bouncing kisses between his mouth and cheeks.

He deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue into her mouth, tightening his embrace and replacing words that were hard to find and properly express with powerful actions that portrayed his emotion, his feelings for her the best way he could.

She rocked her hips against his lap, guiding his hands down her waist and to her bottom on the straps of her armour, resting his fingers on the latches. Deborah started unbuckling his straps on the beaten leather armour, ensuring their lips didn't lose contact as they undressed each other.

Soon they were smooth skin on tattered skin, the only garment of clothing between their naked bodies was the colourful wool sweater. He twisted his fingers through her hair, which was growing out since her haircut and the natural white blonde from before she dyed it.

She kissed his body and he closed his eyes, Charon bucked his hips as she placed her hot lips on his pelvic bone, planting kisses downward before taking in his semi hard member into her mouth.

The sudden envelope of warmth around his cock made Charon gasp, it was a feeling he could never find himself getting used to. His eyes rolled back into his head as he grabbed her black and blonde hair, forcing his member deeper in her mouth. As he groaned and lulled her name, Charon pumped her head up and down without letting her come up for air. The feeling of his cock sliding down the curve of her tight throat made him writhe and buck against her. She sputtered and gripped his hips, digging her nails into his exposed muscle as he worked himself to fully erect with her wet mouth.

When he felt that he was about to cum, Charon let her go, kissing the girl on the forehead as she caught her breath. Deborah's hair was a tangled mess, her lower face dripping in sweat and thick, gooey saliva. She wiped her mouth, then with a sweet smile she demanded, "Make love to me."

"As my employer, I'll do as you command."

Charon spread her toned legs and mounted her. Before entering her already soaking entrance, he placed her legs over his shoulders to accommodate the size of the couch. The ghoul pressed into her, letting out a slight huff at the sight of her features twisting into pleasure.

He bucked his hips and worked up a rhythm with her body, digging his fingernail-less fingertips into the couch. Deborah bit into him, stifling her lovely sounding moans and taking heaving breaths with each thrust of his hips. Charon lifted the sweater to expose her breasts, which were just a little too big for his hands to wrap around.

Charon closed his eyes as he climaxed, arching his back as his thrusts became controlled. He released inside of her, his white seed spilling out onto the immaculate piece of furniture as he pulled out.

Charon rested half of his body on top of hers, feeling up the scratchy fabric of the sweater she wore.

"Thank you for showing me the mirror," Charon said, "I always wondered what I looked like."

"You look like you." Deborah poked around at his hair with a simper, "I like you."

"I like you too." Said Charon.


End file.
